Building 221
by Mohoro
Summary: POV: Building 221. One Shot. Slight Johnlock. "She was Building 221 and she couldn't give much to her small broken family but what she could give was warmth from her hearth and a roof over their heads."


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sherlock Holmes nor BBC Sherlock but I do own a baby rat named Ash.

Quick One-shot I did for my dear friend TARDIS Time Lord, who introduced me to Sherlock and other incredible shows.

This is **NOT** Beta'd. I also do not really know how the apartment buildings in London are set up so I just guessed the best I could.

**Building 221**

Building 221 of Baker Street remembered her very first owner quite well. It was back when Baker Street had just been rebuilt and her fresh foot was standing on what was once an old industrial facility. What was made there, she did not know but this was all she had heard from her good neighbor, Building 222.

The man who had bought her was a stout fellow. He wore a top hat and a long black trench coat every day and everywhere. Mister Rich was his name, a man whose agenda was always organized and tide. He always made sure the other buildings he owned was in order and collected the rent in a timely manner. Rich was also the proud owner of a Gentleman's club down on Porter Street and did very well.

The renters for 221 B and C were always eccentric in her opinion. As long as the occupants kept the place decent and paid rent, Mister Rich never cared what type of people were his neighbors. The man seemed lonely at times in 221A, making tea and reading a good book in the kitchen or his bedroom. He rarely had anyone over but was invited at times by the social beings of 221C but he always was polite and distant at those functions.

It was months after Mister Rich turned fifty-five when he had a horrible health issue and he passed away before his fifty-sixth birthday. During the time when he was sick in bed she made sure the windows were shut tight and doors firmly closed to keep in the warm air. Building 221 did her best to take care of the fellow but there seemed to be nothing she could do to help him. She was sad that he passed away and had a feeling it would be years until she received another owner as simple as him.

Almost fifty years past before Building 221 received her first remodel along with the rest of the buildings on her block. Fresh coats of greens and whites adorned the front doors and outside walls. Doorways and stairways were redone and a brand new heating system was installed that she absolutely loved. The whole neighborhood ended up going from a lower class area to a more middle class standing which brought in new renters and new businesses. Times were good for Building 221, even though her current owners were a grouchy couple who never stopped complaining.

A restaurant fire was her first true scare. She was lucky that her block was not affected but apparently half of a nearby street was not able to be saved by the time the firefighters showed up. They contained the fire, fortunately, but the chance that this could happen to her was still there.

When the new Baker moved into the shop space in her Building she felt nervous, a fire would either scar her or completely destroy her and that would be the end. During the moving process of the Baker a new owner had bought her Building, easily distracting her from the new bakery. It was a a very cute woman with curly hair and stylish dresses, she was a happy person and cared about everyone in her building. Her name was Mrs. Hudson and even though Building 221 did not like her owners husband, the sad fool, she really did hope Mrs. Hudson would be her owner for years to come.

The renters always reminded her of the ones Mister Rich used to have. Eccentric, interesting, and always up to something that entertained her. Years past and Mrs. Hudson aged. Along the way her husband disappeared, good riddance, and she obtained one of her favorite renters since her creation. Building 221 could feel that her owner was close to her end. Only half a decade left before she will leave for one of those senior homes that she kept hearing about. Mrs. Hudson was aging but it seemed to be put on hold when the most fascinating man she ever seen rented space 221B.

Sherlock Holmes will always be her favorite. He kept his place a mess that held so much personality that she didn't even mind it. The skull on the mantle was the mans friend, as strange as that was. Sherlock would talk ideas in bursts of analytical statements or play his violin to it for hours at any hour he felt the need. Building 221 knew that the man had no exact job and owned no vehicle but he seemed to always have the rent check ready the week before Mrs. Hudson even needed it.

221 C continued to be empty, well it was in a lousy state so she wasn't surprised. She couldn't help but wish that it would could be fixed. She would admit that she was vain and liked to look nice and it was hard not being able to do anything about that She would try to ask her owner but the poor lady wasn't with spare money to fix it up and make it a better living condition.

It was a years after 221B was inhabited by Sherlock when the roommate came. There was no notice when the stout man limped his way up her stairs and tried to clean up the mess of personality that decorated 221B. She was amused at the dynamic of Dr John Watson and dear Sherlock Holmes, they immediately seemed to connect like the occupants of 221 C and B did back with the last owner. The marriage of Benjamin and Amelia Wright was beautiful, the happy couple had left when Amelia was pregnant unfortunately but it was a happy memory. Building 221 couldn't wait for the joining of these two gentlemen.

After the 'honeymoon' time, where John and Sherlock finally were insync, she knew something was going to happen. She felt chills through the venting systems and eyes always on her throughout the days. The two men helped out with the cities security and Building 221 knew that the evil would want to target them if they were as good as she thought they were.

Her first scar was the explosion from across the street. People said that it was a gas explosion but the Building that was wrecked had been yelling about an intruder and a bomb before the explosion and she was silenced forever. 222 and 223 were in a state of panic, their street had never had any major accidents and immediately all the blame for the horrible incident was on her. It was because of her occupants that a scar was created on their street and they impressed upon her that she needed to get them out. Of Course that was illogical, there was no way to force them out without bringing attention to herself. She had heard horror stories of buildings being taken down or abandoned because they were thought to be haunted. The humans were scared of what the didn't understand and them knowing that a building was an actual being seemed to cause nightmares for buildings. In the end. No, Building 221 would not do anything about the renters in 221B and hope that no harm would fall upon them, herself, and her fellow neighbors.

Things were going well after the incident. As well as they could be at least. Sure Mrs. Hudson was attacked that one time but Sherlock had saved the day and there was no more issues, she hoped. There was more then one night when John and Sherlock seemed to come back to 221B tired and a bit shaken but they were her strong boys and she always had the rooms warm for them and Mrs Hudson would have tea being made as soon as she knew they were home.

It wasn't too long afterwards when Sherlock Holmes didn't come home. Mrs Hudson had cried for days, Building 221 knew how much of a son Sherlock had been to her. He took care of her and she took care of him. It was probably the most domestic the man had been in his life before John Watson had come about.

Oh John. The poor lad was a complete mess. He went around 221B shifting the boxes of his old roommates things around and then going into the kitchen to try to figure out what to do with the science equipment on the dining room table. She remembered when it angered him, the disarray Sherlock left his things. John would go around in a huff but it didn't take long for him to finally give up and smile fondly at Sherlock. Now John would limp to his room after finding no leeway in organizing and just lay awake for hours.

Building 221 felt their sadness, she had witnessed the relationships between her tenants grow and bloom with so many amazing emotions. To see something so wonderful die so abruptly was heartbreaking. In her time with her foot in the spot where that old industrial building once stood, she had seen many people for long and brief periods of time. Humans going through death, births, love, and destruction were all familiar to her but she did not have an emotional investment in them like she did with these tenants. Mrs. Hudson had been the person she could connect with, them being so alike. Sherlock Holmes had been the son who always impressed and surprised her, making her feel pride for all his accomplishments and angry when he acted out. John Watson was her guardian who always looked out for everyone and did his best to keep everything together.

This was her family and now that one link had disappeared she felt a bit lost. How will Mrs. Hudson age with such a loss in her life? How would John do with his own issues now that his best friend is gone?

She was Building 221 and she couldn't give much to her small broken family but what she could give was warmth from her hearth and a roof over their heads. While she kept them safe she would hope, hope for Sherlock to come home, hope for peace to come back to them.

**End**


End file.
